


Slow Down the Tempo

by Hoppskibjack



Series: One + Two Makes Tre [2]
Category: Bandom, Green Day, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Coitus Interruptus, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, Experimentation, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Spanking, Submission, Threesome - M/M/M, Touch-Starved, Watersports, golden showers, poly green day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoppskibjack/pseuds/Hoppskibjack
Summary: What started as a simple experiment between a couple exploring power exchange, has become an experiment between three very close friends. Each of them taking a turn to act as the submissive for one night and the other two attempting to fulfill some of their bdsm-related desires. This time it's Tre who has no idea what to expect and his thoughts are racing. He is the only one of the three with prior knowledge of the scene, but Mike and Billie have decided they need their drummer to just slow down some.





	1. Stand Still

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added as the chapters are posted. You don't need to read "One + Two Makes Tre" for this to make sense, but you should read it because I'm proud of it and you can see the Tre in this series' dominant side. NONE OF THIS IS REAL, ALL FAKE. I DON'T OWN OR KNOW GREEN DAY. ANY SIMILARITIES ARE ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

Their adventure with Tre had not only brought the trio closer together, it had also opened avenues for experimentation. Their goal after they had settled in that big bed together after Billie’s submissive experience was to let each of them be the submissive. That way they each got to experience being the center of attention of a night together.

Of course touring, like most things, had its ups and downs. Playing for thousands of people every night with your best friends and making a living from it was an upside. Not having privacy, or time to yourself, or time to spend with loved ones was a downside. So for the first few days off they had on tour, Billie and Mike spent time together away from the rest of the band and crew. One of those days they spent in a hotel room with the door locked and privacy sign on; only emerging to retrieve room service. If the crew wondered about them being an item before, they didn’t any longer. 

Billie sprawled on his back on the king sized bed in just boxers, gesturing with the TV remote at the television upside down. “Oh, come on! That’s just not realistic!” He cried, pointing at the man and woman as they crossed into a red room full of fetish equipment. The man talked about a contract while the woman stared at him doe-eyed and stunned. “Mike! Have you seen this movie?” Billie cried, “she’s not listening to anything he’s saying!” 

The other man who had been brushing his teeth in the bathroom emerged, rubbing a towel on his face and then tousling his damp blonde hair with it. He glanced at the TV, tossing the towel back towards the sink. He rolled his eyes. “Why are you watching that? Do not get ideas from that movie, Billie. You’ll end up castrating one of us.”

“I thought that was one of your kinks,” Billie said innocently propping himself up on an elbow to grin at Mike. “Please, please, cut my balls off Billie,” he mocked, moaning while he rolled onto his side and then back onto his stomach.

“Short lived one, if it was.” Mike countered with a chuckle, sitting down next to the singer. “One time only kink.” They both stared at the screen until Billie threw up his hands in frustration and turned off the set. “I made it halfway through, I deserve a reward.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to finish watching it.”

Billie gave Mike a little shove. “Thank you Mr. Pritchard, for that witty banter. Remember to tip your waitress.”

“Oh,” Mike said and straightened up, “speaking of comedians...” He dug in his back pocket and produced a folded piece of paper and offered it to Billie. “Tre gave me his checklist back if you wanted to have a look.”

Billie nodded, taking the piece of paper, unfolding it and scanning it. He paused and looked unimpressed. “Did he really write ‘no staples’? Really? That song is how old?” Mike chuckled next to him. “Seems pretty straight forward…”

Mike leaned over to point to an item with a curious look on his face. “What about that?”

“Hm.” Billie said, the sound not conveying anything.

“It’s different, I’ve never done it.” Mike said, “Might be interesting, he’d be the one receiving it.”

Billie nodded, but his brow had furrowed in concentration as he stared at the sheet, tracing his finger down through the items as he read them silently. “Can’t say any of these really surprise me, it’s Tre after all. Some of them are interesting though being outside of the usual whips and chains.”

“And pain, which he’s not fond of,” Mike reminded him.

“Which he’s not fond of,” Billie repeated, nodding. “Right.” He folded up the paper and stuffed it into his pocket then glanced at Mike. He leaned against him, “show tonight, tomorrow, and then Tuesday to Thursday off. We could do something then?”

“Same room set-up? Suites connecting?” Mike asked kissing Billie on top of the head.

Billie smiled and nodded. “Connecting suites would be good, if we share and get one connected for Tre, we would be able to get a bigger bathroom. This time we could go out to dinner and come back to him waiting.” Billie swore he heard Mike purr and he cracked half of a smile. “Who’s more excited about this you or me?”

Mike didn’t say anything, just took Billie’s hand and placed it on the bulge in the front of his pants and then the singers. He tipped his head and raised an eyebrow at the other man.

Billie couldn’t help but giggle. “Fine, you win.”

“I always win when I’m with you.” Mike commented and Billie huffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re a softie, Mike.” 

Mike just gave a little shrug and leaned a little heavier against Billie. The dark haired man just glanced over and studied the bassist for a moment. “Do you want something, Mike?”

Another little shrug but there was something crackling in the air and both men felt it. Billie was in the process of removing Mike’s sweatpants when they glanced at the clock. The knock on the door moments later only settled that soundcheck was going to come first.

* * *

Wednesday, a full day off. 

Wait.

Wait.

Contrary to popular belief there were things that made Tre Cool uncomfortable. Maybe not uncomfortable in the traditional sense of the word, but stuff like staying still and being patient wasn’t second nature to him. He liked movement, he liked energy, he liked improvising, and rolling with the punches. He wasn’t the biggest fan of sitting still and waiting. So to be sat waiting, in a similar situation as Billie was a few weeks ago wasn’t torture, but it wasn’t comfortable.

Billie had left the note for him, in a similar spot as Mike had near the coffee tray. It didn’t say much, just that if he wanted to play he should be in their suite (which connected, how convenient) between 8:30pm and 8:50pm and be waiting, kneeling and clothed, when they arrived. They hadn’t given him an exact time they would be back; he knew they were going out to dinner together, just a time frame with implications. Billie had sounded so sweet in the note, “if you’re not there we’ll assume you don’t want to play. That’s OK, we just won’t have another chance for a while.”

No, it wasn’t fine, Tre thought to himself. He had been looking forward to this for days. After he gave Mike his checklist it was only a matter of an hour or so before Billie asked him about it to clarify a few things. Then with time off coming up, both of them had been dropping hints to remind him. They always seemed to be around the next corner and things took on a higher than usual sexual charge both backstage and on stage for Tre. Fact: Certain things shouldn’t be mimed with his drumsticks except by him. They were taking his weird and using it against him. It was… well, weird. On stage the fans loved this seemingly random, over-the-top, sexually charged Billie, but Tre knew. He knew the reason. Billie’s mock masturbation on stage during Hitchin’ a Ride had never made him wriggle in his seat before, but it did yesterday and he knew that Billie and Mike both saw it.

Tre posted up on his knees, wiggling his feet and ankles to shake out the pins and needles sensation that was starting. He glanced at the clock. 8:49pm. Really? They were going to pull the same “make him wait” shit with him as they did with Billie? Tre swung his feet around in front of him and sat down, then flopped onto his back on the floor and stared at the ceiling. He figured he had at least five minutes to chill before they came in, so he closed his eyes and stretched his neck back and forth. Then he spread his arms out as wide as he could and felt the wonderful pull in his shoulders and wrists as the knots eased out.

He started to pull his arms back in and felt the firm pressure of something on each arm. His eyes opened and he looked over one shoulder. There was a converse shoe on one arm and a quick glance confirmed a black leather type shoe on the other. He hadn’t heard the door at all and all hotel keycards made a little noise when you inserted the key into the lock. How in the hell did they get in here so quietly?

“Hi, guys…” Tre started, smiling. His eyes traveled up from Billie’s converse to his face and then across to Mike’s. Then he switched gears after clearing his throat. “Uh… sirs?”

Mike shook his head, so did Billie, his arms crossed loosely across his chest. Neither looked angry or disappointed or negative at all, really. They looked amused. He knew that look, he thrived on that look. Making his bandmates laugh at his antics was second nature. Things hadn’t even formally started and he already felt the need to please them and keep those smiles coming to the surface. Tre felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach and chest. He could feel a blush rising in his neck and he took a breath to settle the trembling.

“Settled?” Billie asked. He shifted slightly to keep pressure on Tre’s arm; pinning it without actually hurting him.

“Yes…” He trailed off and looked up at Billie, waiting for him to fill him in. There had been a lot of discussion about this. He had always played in a scene that had rules, structure and formality. He knew first hand that Billie and Mike didn’t operate like that. Not having that structure made Tre slightly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable was becoming a theme.

“Don't move your arm,” Billie said, taking his foot off the limb and crouching down. The thought of moving his arm didn’t even cross Tre’s mind. “Our names are fine, you don’t need to ‘sir’ us. You wanted to do something different, right Tre?” There was a moment of silence and Tre nodded when he realized Billie was waiting for an answer. He was rewarded with a smile and felt the pressure on his other arm lessen. “Well, this is different. You asked for uncomfortable too, so this time we’ll play by our rules.”

They had definitely gone over the checklist, then. What other things were they planning?

“Not too late to say you want out.” Mike added and Tre’s gaze darted to the taller man. He felt like it should have irritated him that neither of them were upset or pretending to be upset at his transgressions, but to be honest it was more irritating that they were so coolly offering him the out.

“I’m good, uh, Mike. Thanks.”

“Good to hear,” Billie said, his voice light and pleasant. He stepped back, and from his position lying on the floor, Tre saw him nod at Mike to move his foot off the drummer’s arm. When he did Tre was tempted to move it, at least shake the sensation from his skin. Instead he stayed still, splayed out on the floor and hoping he was doing the right thing. He was rewarded with a bigger grin on Billie’s face.

“See! You don’t need threats to get you to do what we want. You just want us to be happy, in and out of the bedroom.”

Tre couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Of course he wanted them to be happy, they were his friends and his bandmates. He wanted them to have everything. It did sound a little weird when he said it that way, though. 

“Up, up Tre,” the dark haired singer said.

Tre rolled to his knees and then to his feet to stand in front of Billie. He could feel Mike standing a few steps behind him, a warm presence in his shadow, but his attention was all on Billie Joe and the smile he was giving Tre in reward.

“So,” Billie started as he started to circle around Tre. “Get this out of the way. Red means?”

“Stop, do not pass go, do not collect $200.”

“And yellow?” Billie asked over his shoulder, his breath tickling Tre’s ear.

“I need to take a breath. Or, this is too much, we can come back to this later.” Tre said succinctly. His gaze was forward, but he was keeping track of Billie’s movements out of the corner of his eye.

“Great. Safeword?”

“Lightning.”

“Perfect. Here’s what’s going to happen: you are going to stay perfectly still unless you’re told otherwise, Mike is going to strip you and do whatever he wants, and I’m going to watch.” Billie sat on the bed and Tre felt the butterflies return to his stomach. More being still? “Can you do that for us, Tre?”

Tre smiled despite himself. “Of course, Billie.”

“Great. All yours Mike.”

To say that Mike was torturing him was untrue, but Tre couldn’t think of a better descriptor. Tre was wearing exactly three pieces of clothing: underwear (just to be safe after the trick he pulled with Billie), pants, and a touristy alligator shirt he had picked up in Florida. Three pieces of clothing should take less than a minute to remove. He had even forgone socks to make things a bit easier.

Mike moved like a snail and treated him like glass. The bassist’s hands were light and careful, occasionally dragging calloused fingertips across his skin or skimming the very tips of his nails as he moved to undo the pants button and zipper and then to pick up the hem of the shirt. Every touch was a tiny warm amount of pressure that almost felt like a spark. He wondered if he was imagining it or if his skin was actually vibrating as he tried to keep still. A mantra of ‘hurry up, hurry up’ ran like a freight train through his mind, even as he wanted each contact to last.

He wanted to touch him back, that was the frustrating part. Even if Mike was still fully clothed he wanted to return the touch just to complete the transaction between them. He stepped out of pants and underwear when Mike asked him to and he barely heard Billie’s approval of his decision to wear underwear. Billie’s praise only made Tre hungrier for sensation. 

Despite all this, Tre felt he was doing well even if he did want to _griptouchtasteteaselick_ both of them. He still hadn’t moved. He stood naked, mostly erect, and it felt like the best kind of reward when Mike’s lips finally met his. He sighed into the contact, balling his hands into fists to keep them from running through the other’s blond hair. He half expected Billie to comment on it, but he seemed to let it go. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, because the part of him that was used to playing in formal scenarios wanted to be caught on it; to be punished, and the rest of him called that part an idiot. 

When he was able to sneak a glance at the third member of the group he saw Billie palming himself through his jeans, his eyes dark as he watched. Tre’s eyes met his for a moment and there was a predatory look there that surprised him and sent another wave of arousal through him. If he was like this now... 

Mike’s hands were wandering on his sides and the small of his back, occasionally through his hair. Tre leaned his head back as the other man kissed and licked down his chin and neck letting out a little huff as teeth scraped the skin. Then a whine escaped as nails scratched down his back. He felt another hand run through his hair, Billie’s he assumed unless Mike had grown a third one. Then he felt his hands being gathered behind his back and his wrists crossed.

“You’re doing so well,” Billie said behind him. “But you almost broke the rules, so let’s make things a bit easier for you.” Tre felt a sliver of relief that Billie had seen his mistake, even as the rope wound around his wrists, tight but still comfortable. He fought to divide his attention between Mike and Billie as each performed their task. What was it that Billie said on stage, ‘somebody fuck me?’ That’s how he felt right now.

It was when Mike bit his shoulder that it happened. “Please…” The word slipped out as almost a whine and Tre was surprised to hear it.

Mike paused in his torture when Tre spoke and Tre felt Billie pause just as he finished tying off the rope. “Please, what?” Mike asked.

Was Tre above begging? No, Tre was not. “Please let me do something for either of you, or please fuck me, something. Please…I can’t just stand here anymore.” His voice was thinner than he expected, like he could be in tears if this kept up for a while longer. He could hear the rustling of clothes behind him and he felt skin on skin where Billie pressed against him, as close as his bound hands would allow. Any place Billie was touching him seemed warmer and more comfortable. 

“Are you safewording out?” Mike asked, a streak of concern creasing his features. 

“No, just… begging, I guess…” 

Billie must have been waiting to see if Tre wanted out, because as soon as it was clear he was OK with continuing he spoke. “What kind of things can you do for us?” Billie purred in Tre’s ear and he could feel the blood rushing to his head and then away to his groin in response to the sound. His knees felt a little weak. “Then again...” Billie said quickly changing his mind and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You don’t make the decisions. Why don’t you give Mike some of your attention? He didn’t get to have as much fun last time; he watched more than he participated.”

Mike mouthed something silently to Billie. He paused for a moment in which Tre assumed he had gotten the go ahead. “How about a race?”

“Like running?” Tre asked and pictured himself face-planting because his arms were tied behind his back. That was one way to get carpet burn.

“No. If you make me come before Billie does, you win. If Billie comes first, you lose.”

“What do I win?” Tre asked, hoping the answer was some variation of sex, or the use of his hands back. Billie’s hands trailed up his stomach to flick at a nipple and then to return and pinch it. Tre shivered and tried to press against Billie without seeming like he was moving.

Mike was smiling. “Does that matter? You should ask what happens if you lose.”

That smile was a little frightening. He was right though, and that streak of submission came to the surface. “OK, what happens if I lose?” Tre asked and shuddered as Billie repeated his attack on the other nipple.

Before Mike could respond, Billie cut in. “If you lose, you get punished. So, don’t lose.You’ll have more fun if you win.” It was so simply put that Tre wondered why he even bothered to ask. Of course, just don’t lose, simple as that. It was that easy, right?


	2. Lucky Liquids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watersports, golden showers, pee play... whatever you call it it's just a small part of the scene, but Tre didn't think he'd be so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the photographic evidence of the boys enjoying some watersports now and then when they were younger, THIS IS ALL FAKE.

Tre found himself without the use of his hands, having been helped down to his knees by Billie and facing Mike. The reality of the “race” was beginning to sink in. This didn't seem fair. Billie had been touching himself before and he still had use of his hands. Tre’s blue eyes lifted and he found himself wordlessly staring at the bassist standing in front of him. Raising his eyebrows Tre didn’t have to say anything, he pled his case with his eyes and Mike replied by rolling his own and reaching down to unbutton the fly of his jeans. Rhythm section unite, Tre thought and he shuffled a little closer to Mike. 

Mike added another penalty with the condom he rolled over himself. This was a no-win for them scenario. Still, Tre wasn’t a quitter and he tried to remember back to what Billie had done during their first get together. 

“Relax.” Mike hissed out, head tipped back in response to Tre’s currently quickly tiring jaw. He tried to relax his jaw without sacrificing the rhythm he had started and was only partially successful. 

Tre heard and felt Billie “finish the race” before Mike even started to make that much noise. The warm liquid splashed against his back and his skin twitched as it ran in rivulets down his spine and onto the tied hands behind his back. Mike was hard, filling his mouth and Tre swallowed as he attempted to take a little more. Mike’s long fingers curled in his hair, gripping his scalp as he gently, gently, then notsogently thrust into the warm mouth. The tight fingers in his hair, the warm liquid on his back signaled something to the man. He groaned and felt his own length stiffen a bit more. He relaxed his jaw and gave up trying to help or guide Mike. He was just a mouth. He knew this feeling of submission, of just being used and enjoyed; t was nice being on this side of the coin. 

“Fuck, finally…” Mike said above him and if Tre were a vindictive person he would have done something other than try to relax a little more. No, that wasn’t true, all he could think about right now was doing everything he could to help Mike. 

His jaw was starting to ache; his head felt bruised where Mike was gripping it and he could feel the drool pooling in his mouth and then running out of the corner where he couldn’t close his jaw. He probably looked like quite a sight, debauched and covered with saliva and drying cum. 

The steady thrusting changed, Mike’s hips stuttered and Tre knew to expect the latex that was rubbing against his tongue to fill soon. Instead Mike pulled his cock out of the warm, wet hole and stripped off the condom, tossing it aside on the hotel carpet. He waved a hand for Tre to turn around and face Billie, even as Billie kept a hand on his shoulder to help him maintain his balance. It didn’t take a genius to know what was coming, and Tre wasn’t surprised when he turned and another lash of hot liquid splashed on his shoulder, trickling down his back and running across the first, now dry line that Billie had left. 

Tre looked up at Billie with a small smile at the corners of his lips. The drool was starting to dry and he itched to at least wipe his mouth. “Guess you won.” 

“As if there was any doubt he wouldn’t,” Mike chimed in behind Tre, reaching down to undo the rope and massage the previously trapped fingers. Tre flexed his shoulders as Mike tossed the rope aside and rubbed his wrists together to feel the indents from the soft hemp rope. 

Tre still kept his hands behind his back and swallowed when Billie met his gaze. “What can I say,” Billie said taking a finger and smearing the drool from the corner of Tre’s mouth down to his chin, “I’ve had lots of practice.” 

Tre raised his chin to allow him access to his neck, but Billie wiped the remaining saliva from his finger on Tre’s shoulder, ignoring the offer. “I wonder if there's any more fluids we can get on you,” Billie said, tapping his finger against his bottom lip. The drummer felt his pulse quicken. The other man’s voice was low; there wasn't anything evil or diabolical about it, but Tre knew a plotting Billie Joe when he heard one. Oddly it was Mike that surprised him. 

“I can think of one,” Mike said, his voice was so calm and pleasant like he was remarking on the weather, that Tre was actually waiting to hear it, as it couldn't possibly be what he was thinking it would be. 

“Oh yeah?” Billie asked. 

“Yeah, and I gotta piss so now is as good a time as any.”

Billie chuckled and crossed behind Tre to kiss Mike on the lips. 

“Aw, you guys, it’s like kink Christmas,” Tre intoned with the beginnings of a smile as he glanced back at the two kissing. 

Billie shot him a look that was amused at first and then quickly turned to more of a stern rebuke. “We owe you a punishment, don't we?”

He nodded, his smile now a ghost of what it once was, not trusting his voice to say something polite. 

“Don't we?” Billie repeated, watching Mike take a couple steps towards the bathroom and then turn back towards them.

“Yes Billie,” Tre said, attempting to look as apologetic as possible and failing miserably. 

“Thought so. Come on.” 

Tre got to his feet, stretching out his legs and brushing off his knees. He took a couple steps before he realized both his bandmates staring. He wasn't supposed to get up, was he? “I wasn't supposed to get up, was I?” 

Both men stared and neither spoke. The message was loud and clear: he had screwed up. 

It was Mike who pointed to the ground and without saying a word, Tre slunk to his hands and knees and started to crawl after them, now reminded more than ever of the erection he couldn’t deal with and the pressure that had built and was now just sitting and waiting inside him. He was frustrated and on edge, no doubt they would use that to their advantage for his punishment. Now crawling was just bringing the fact home that if they wanted, he might not come at all. 

The act of crawling itself was fun; excellent for pranks that involve taller people, but it was harder to enjoy when the reason you were doing it wasn’t for immediate pleasure. It wasn’t even for their pleasure, they weren’t watching!

“How many bottles of water did you drink?” Billie asked Mike, and Tre perked up a bit. They weren’t talking to him, but they were talking in front of him and he figured it was fine to listen in. He remembered doing the same thing in front of Billie and watching him actually tremble.

“Two, damn near three. I would have won that race of yours if you had drank them instead.” Mike mused, flicking on the two light switches on the wall of the bathroom just inside the door. “It’s a wonder I came at all.” 

Now, Tre was a smart guy. He played dumb sometimes, but he wasn’t actually dumb. Yet he hadn’t seen this coming. He hadn’t actually expected Billie or Mike to be up for indulging his golden showers curiosity. Sure they had joked around about it when they were younger; bodily fluids being the funniest and most outrageous thing to experiment with. Yet when he had that checklist in his hand, his mind just kept going to how he had felt then, about being pissed at, but never pissed on. About being that center of attention and feeling demeaned in the best possible way. He had even gotten a relatively hard swat on the ass from both Mike and Billie after the press they did where he talked to an interviewer about drinking Mike’s urine. He couldn’t quite remember how much truth was in it. He didn’t think it was a total lie, but those had been weird times.

Billie’s hand came down to stroke Tre’s hair as they got into the bathroom and he glanced up to stare at the lead singer. He got the faintest, barely audible snicker out of Billie when he arched his back up like a cat to catch the fingernails trailing down his neck and back. He let out a tiny, comedic little purr and was rewarded with a tousle of his hair and a giggle.

“You don’t need to impress me, Tre. This isn’t your punishment.” Billie said, looking down. “This is cake before your vegetables.” Once last tousle of the dyed locks and Billie crouched to press a kiss to his lips, pushing the other man backwards a bit. Tre mumbled a moan into Billie’s mouth and felt the corners of his lips curl up into a smile. There were only a few things better than this and perhaps one on par, but they were all lost to the recesses of his mind. Warm, soft, hot, firm, demanding and giving… the sensations flashed in his mind and he let a groan slip from his throat. No one should be such a good kisser, it wasn’t fair to the rest of the human species. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to drown in it; the sensations and the sparks it created in his mind made him feel like he was on fire. 

Then Billie pulled away all too soon and Tre knew he made a pathetic little noise for it not to stop, but he couldn’t feel embarrassed about it. He glanced at Mike who had shed his clothes at some point during their kissing and was now probably trying to bring himself down from half-mast in order to actually piss. Tre assumed that was why he was across the bathroom and not also kissing him. That thought only made his dick harder and he cursed silently. 

Maybe it wasn’t so silently, because suddenly Billie was at his ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “you still want this, don’t you?” 

Tre nodded. 

“Is that’s why you’re so hard, the thought of Mike pissing on you?” Billie asked, and the question seemed genuine enough. Tre felt the heat go up his neck and into his cheeks. Where was his voice now? “I’ll take the blush as a yes.” He continued without prompting, his voice a whisper as his hand snuck around the other’s waist. “This was all Mike’s idea, by the way, he set everything up. Every time I mentioned it he got hard.” 

Tre wondered where the hell this Billie Joe had come from and could they keep him forever?

“Come here, if you’re coming.” Mike said softly. Tre glanced up. Mike had moved to stand near the shower stall, a drain set into the floor presumably for any time the shower would leak or someone stepping out would slosh too much water. Tre didn’t need to be told twice and he crawled to a spot near the drain, kneeling up like he had in the beginning.

“Colour?” The word hovered between a question and a command. There was something in his voice. 

“Green,” Tre replied without any hesitation. “Fields of weed green, as far as the eye can see.” That earned him a snicker from Mike at the very least. 

The entire experience unfolded in a kind of heady half-conscious state. There was a lack of spontaneity, sure, but there was also trepidation from everyone involved. Little bits and pieces of the memory wriggled their way into Tre’s gray matter. 

The body temperature yellow liquid warmed his skin and the ‘we shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m so glad we’re doing this” taboo fed his mind. He stole glances at Mike who would meet his eyes, and Tre wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be reassurance going on between them. He only managed to sneak a glance at Billie before Mike’s hand turned his chin. That led to him tipping his head up into the stream, now a bitter… different taste on his tongue. It wasn’t completely unpleasant just different, and he wondered how much coffee affected urine. 

The whole experience didn’t last long, for obvious reasons, but as the last pale amber drops dribbled out onto the hard floor and down the drain, he had long fingers back in his hair and Tre all but purred. He didn’t know if he had ever been this hard in his life. He hissed when Billie’s hand wrapped around his cock and bit his lip. A tongue brushed across his clavicle, up his neck and chin and he shivered, as did Billie who happened to be the owner of the tongue.

The black haired man smirked at Mike’s quizzical expression and ran a finger down Tre’s chest and held it up to Mike’s lips. He raised his eyebrows and when Mike took Billie’s finger into his mouth, his smirk blossomed into a full on devilish grin. 

They helped Tre up, he was slightly unsteady on his feet, then opened the shower door. Billie eyed it, seeming to do mental calculations on the quite large shower and the three people. Tre was pushed in and promptly cornered by the two men.


	3. Teasing Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tre gets worked up and there are promises of redemption and punishments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief chapter? Setting up for the final one. See if you can guess the thing I'm trying to reference.

The shower was a mess of water, hands, and soap with Tre in the middle of it. Tre’s forehead and hands were pressed against the cold tile in the shower stall and two sets of hands roamed over his body. He had tried desperately to hold on and ask permission, but he hadn’t stood a chance to hold back his orgasm, not after everything he had been through. Mike’s firm grip around his cock made his nerves light up in pleasure and it only took a few sharp strokes to bring his walls crumbling down. When he came with a whine, his knees weakening, he felt relief surge through his nervous system and saw sparks behind his eyes. Mike had held him up with Billie’s assistance until his legs grew steady. He was so relieved to have released the pressure and then, slowly, he was reminded there were rules.

Billie was pressed against the drummer’s back, wet and warm, cornering him and surrounding him all the while reassuring him as his breathing returned to normal. Tre wasn’t sure how he was doing it, but he felt safe. Mike was at his side, adjusting the shower head so it wasn’t streaming directly into Billie’s eyes as he laid his head on Tre’s shoulder. 

“Don’t let him fool you,” Mike whispered in Tre’s other ear, glancing at the other man with a smile. “He seems so innocent and then suddenly he’s milking your last drop out of you and you never want to come again.” Tre shuddered and let out another whine, both at the words and the slow, deliberate way the bassist spoke them. There was a promise there, and maybe a vaguely veiled threat. 

Billie’s gentle presence contrasted with Mike’s warning. It made Tre’s skin prickle in expectation even more than the cool air left behind when Mike moved the shower head. His soft caresses had turned to nails running down Tre’s sides, his mouth alternating biting with kisses and licks on his neck, nape and shoulder. It was keeping his attention and making his blood race as the expectations that this would ramp up. He pushed back against the singer, welcoming the nips with the feeling of a warm body against him. Tre groaned, balancing against the wall with one hand to brush the water and hair out of his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Mike leaving the shower stall, but said nothing about it.

“You know you owe me for two punishments,” Billie said in his ear, quickly followed with a cat-like lick. Tre nodded and hung his head, feeling the words travel quickly from ear to brain to dick and whispered out a sound that was supposed to be ‘Yes, Billie.’ The voice in his ear was quiet, barely audible above the shower with a layer of dark humour and rough around the edges, a put on voice, maybe? “But, what if we should just forget them,” Billie continued, “we can just have a good time in here. Just us...” Tre moaned as Billie wrapped a hand around his cock, pressing against him so the other man could feel the slippery erection sliding and grinding against his skin. “Would you like that?” 

“Y-yes, please.” Who wouldn’t want to avoid punishments and enjoy all the good stuff? 

“I bet you would…” Billie began and Tre pushed back against him, wanting a little friction anywhere that he could get it, needing just a little bit more. “Someone is eager…” The remnants of soap from shower gel that Mike had rubbed on Billie kept the dark-haired man hands gently gliding over the shaft, stopping before he reached the head. As the water washed it away the strokes became a little bit quicker and the grip tightened. 

“Please, Billie,” Tre repeated. 

“Fuck, look at you. You get hard quick…” The voice teased in his ear, ignoring the pleas like some sort of dark and wonderful promise. He nipped the outer shell of the drummer’s ear making Tre jump and then chuckled at his reaction. “I can’t think straight with all this flesh in front of me.” He ground his hips against Tre’s ass. “You’re making me so hard. I just want to fuck you right now.” 

“Please,” Tre said, almost like a mantra at this point, which earned him a low moan from Billie behind him. He went from wanting the punishments gone to wanting whatever Billie would give him. He could feel that Billie wasn’t lying and contemplated shifting just a bit to get his point across. His own cock had gone from zero to sixty remarkably quick and the occasional brush of the singer’s nails across his balls combined with the hand stroking him were only heightening the situation and to stoke the fire that was burning. The stroking slowed and Tre felt the hand leave, only to grasp his testicles firmly, pulling down gently and slowly until Tre was bent at the waist. 

His breathing hitched as the tension increased, the hand that had him by the balls only squeezing as more of a warning. Then Billie’s voice was at his ear. “I’m going to punish you first.” The darkness to his voice was there, that edge that had something vaguely familiar about it that Tre couldn’t quite place. “Doesn’t seem fair that I don’t get to have fun until I deal with you.” 

He felt a pang of guilt and wondered if he could have tried a little harder, hung on a little longer and then they would be having fun instead of talking about punishments. 

“It’s alright, we all make mistakes, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I have fun.” The reassurance to the unspoken apology was welcome, as was the hand that gently swept through his hair and the hand holding him letting go. Tre released the breath he was holding and glanced over to Billie who pointed out of the shower stall. “Get dried off and then over the end of the bed, we’re going to put a little colour on that fine ass of yours. Then --” and with this he wrapped an arm around Tre’s chest briefly pulling him back-to-chest with Billie, “if you’re _really_ lucky, and _really_ good for me, I’m going to fuck you…” 

He pushed Tre towards the open shower door and Tre glanced back at the singer, dark hair spiked from the shower and eyes glittering in the overhead light. Whatever was possessing Billie could stay, was all Tre could think, before he walked towards Mike and grabbed a towel to do as he was instructed.


	4. Pleasure and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tre learns about creative punishments and being used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for the Tre instalment! Just Mike left to go. Thank you to everyone who left kudos and said they liked it. If the aftercare seems short and cut off, it's just he doesn't need much of it. Everyone is different.

Tre stood bent at the waist against the end of the hotel bed with his ass pushed out, forearms flat against the sheets and head hanging down lower than his shoulders. He felt oddly self conscious like this, more open and vulnerable than he normally did when he was naked around his bandmates. A small part of his brain wanted to crack a joke to break the tension, the relative silence in the room only interrupted by the occasional passerby outside in the hallway and the lower murmur from Mike and Billie across the room. 

He was self-aware enough to know that while he wasn't in subspace or an equivalent headspace, he was brushing the border of it. He felt the anticipation in his skin and limbs, his arms feeling heavy as they pressed against the linens. His body, usually capable of buzzing energy was calm no doubt a side effect of this exchange of power. Last time he has subbed he had felt almost drugged; too far if he was honest. He breathed out, relaxing his shoulders with a small shrug and trying to ease the tension from his neck. He had never been one for pain, but he also knew he had dropped into subspace because of it once or twice before. Adrenaline was a powerful thing when used correctly and that belief was the reason he had put it on the checklist. 

The very soft rustling sound of bare feet against carpet made him pay attention. He couldn't be sure which man; or if it was both, approached, but he kept his eyes down despite his curiosity. A finger trailed up his spine and Tre fought the instinct to twitch or react.

“Oh, now you're being good,” Billie said and Tre wanted to agree, to maybe even apologize for his other transgressions. 

“And quiet,” Mike added, more to Billie than to the drummer posed in front of them. “No little quips, no non-sequiturs. What did you do to him in the shower?”

“Nothing he didn't want me to do, and I didn't do a lot that he wanted, too. I did promise him some colour on his ass. He owes us two punishments, y’know.”

“Tre?”

“Yes, Mike?” Tre had to clear his throat before speaking and it seemed loud with the blood pounding in his ears. 

“Do you need to be gagged to be quiet? I don't want security coming in here.”

“What? Breaking up S and M games wasn't added to their list of required duties?” Tre asked with a smile and he heard Mike chuckle. The lightness that his quip added to the room made him feel a little less anxious. He felt Mike place a hand on his shoulder to prompt him for an answer. “No, I’ll be good. If I get too loud you can gag me. And before you ask it's not easy being green…” he trailed off, hoping the muppet line would suffice for an answer to what was probably going to be his next question.

This time Mike and Billie both chuckled and Mike ruffled Tre’s hair affectionately. ”Good. No set number of strokes, I'm just going to go until I decide to stop. This is punishment, but I know how much you can take. You have your colours and your safeword, if you need them.”

“Yes, Mike.” His voice cracked just a little and he swallowed, even as Mike set a large hand on the back of his neck in reassurance. Tre wasn't sure whether a set number was better or worse, but he attempted to relax and just give in to the emotions rather than fighting it. That idea was something a fling had introduced him to back in their Dookie days. Something to do with endorphins and science he didn’t understand then and still didn’t. It was easier said than done, regardless of why it may work.

The first slap caught him off guard and he flinched forward, barely catching his left wrist with his right hand before he reached back to protect himself. Not being restrained was part of it, more mind over matter fuckery for him to contend with. He briefly felt Mike’s hand steady his hip and then it was gone again. 

He let out a breath as Mike’s hand fell again and again. The strikes were all close together, centered around the fleshiest part of his ass and the top of his thighs. The skin was glowing now from a fire that seemed to start on the skin and grow roots into the flesh. It hurt, it really did, but at this point no more than landing funny after one of his stunt falls on stage. 

It was when Mike started to repeat the pattern of slaps and started hitting the spots that had been hit two or three times before that Tre winced, his jaw shut tight to keep the sound in and muffled as much as possible. Tears formed in his eyes, his noises turning into muffled sobs and eventually the tears trickled down over his cheeks as he tried to breath out the groans and cries. 

The sound of Tre’s sobs caused Mike to pause and Tre felt him next to him, a hand in his hair. “You’re being so good, Tre. You’re doing so well.” The drummer closed his eyes, jaw clenched as Mike said, “just three more. Can you do that for us?”

He could take three more. His legs were shaking and the shaking was making the burning in his upper thighs feel even worse. As the last three slaps fell onto his thighs and stung, then burned his flesh, he somehow managed to stay braced against the bed. He would have to drum standing up… His legs felt like jelly and just before his knees could give out Mike was there, wrapping him in a hug. The embrace lessened and Tre could feel him touching the sore area, he assumed he was looking for broken skin. It hurt. His ass really fucking hurt. 

“Looks good,” Billie said behind him, “no broken skin and as red as I hoped.” The singer walked to Tre’s side to look at him and kissed him gently on the lips, wiping away a tear. “You were amazing just now, for someone who can't take pain, you took that very well.” 

Billie leaned in, his words just between Tre and himself, “I know from experience his hands really fucking hurt.” His words sounded sincere, loving even and Tre couldn't help but smirk and dip his head into a nod of agreement. “That’s one punishment out of the way, one more and you get your reward.” 

He straightened smiling at Mike. “Hey Mike, can you grab a chair for Tre. I got him.”

What? Chair? Oh no, fuck that. Tre’s internal monologue started to babble. “Chair?” Was thankfully all that came out of his mouth and the expression that he was met with when he glanced over at Billie was the opposite of sympathy. 

“Of course. You can’t stand on your own and your legs are shaking. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Billie’s voice had that edge on it again, hissed in his ear and making Tre’s stomach drop. When he said it, it made horrible, perfect sense. 

Mike set the chair down so it was facing away from the bed. This wasn’t the comfortable desk chair that was padded with proper back support. This was the chair next to the table with the ice bucket that you set out for people you didn’t want to stay. Tre glanced from Billie to Mike and then back again, his focus falling on the chair. 

“Yanno, I don’t think I can…” He started, he took a step away from the demonic thing on four legs as far as Billie would allow him. His voice quickly faltering under the gaze of the two men. 

“Are you safewording out Tre?” Mike asked, his face lined with a sketch of worry across his forehead and near the ends of his mouth. 

Tre was considering it. His ass really hurt and he wasn’t sure he could sit on that thing the hotel called a chair. However, he wanted to push himself and he still felt that tiny bit of guilt that he was getting punished in the first place. This was the last punishment.

“Mr. Cool?” Mike repeated and Tre shook his head to clear the clutter. 

“Green. I’m green…” 

“Then get on the chair.” Mike’s voice was blunt, but he could still see the remnants of worry on his face beginning to disappear. “Two minutes, no whining, no wiggling.” 

Tre gently, oh so gently, eased himself onto the chair and winced. “Fuck…” he hissed out, trying to flex his legs to lift himself up, which made the burn worse. He tipped his head back and trying to settle onto the chair somehow without actually touching it. 

A shadow and then Mike’s hand was on his chin, picking it up and tilting it forward so their eyes met. “Shhh,” he breathed out gently caressing the side of the drummer’s face as he turned to walk around behind the chair and talk to Billie. 

Two minutes was easy, Tre told himself. He could sit here for two minutes. ‘She’s a Rebel’ was exactly two minutes, he remembered, he had made a joke about it in an interview once. He could run over the drums in his head to pass the time. He let out a shaky breath and tried to shift just a little bit to a more comfortable spot. There was no more comfortable spot. 

“Stop moving or I’ll add time.” 

The voice came behind him and he let out another breath, the burning sensation in his ass and thighs doubling on itself as his own weight pressed down on the wooden chair. It wasn’t the worst pain he ever felt and he didn’t think he was going to pass out but he couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t even take it for another minute. He could already feel the guilt pressing against his temples, the disgusting trickle of the word failure leaking down his brain and into his spinal cord. He said the word anyway after clearing his throat. 

“Yellow.”

Mike and Billie Joe weren’t far behind him, but they were there instantly as soon as he breathed out that word in the silence of the room. 

“Come on,” Billie said lifting an arm on one side while Mike did the same to the other. They helped Tre to the bed where he lay on his stomach while Mike dug out some numbing cream to smooth into the reddened skin. Billie sat on the edge of the bed by Tre’s head, running a hand through his hair. 

“I just needed a break, I didn’t actually safeword out,” Tre said and Billie just smiled in response. 

“True, but you wanted to. Tre, you looked fucking miserable and not in a sexy way. Making you shut up and sit still didn’t work in school and wouldn’t have worked now. We’ll make arrangements for your sensitive ass and finish this off.” 

Tre nodded, glancing at Billie and then made a point of slowly lowering his gaze into the singer’s lap before licking his lips. None of them had bothered to get dressed after the shower and he could see the effect this whole thing was having on Bill even if he was paying more attention to Tre than to his own needs. Billie didn’t respond, just leaned back and set himself up on his palms before raising his eyebrows. He didn’t need a better invitation and despite Mike’s protest, shuffled up the bed a little so he could rest his head in Billie’s lap and lick a wet stripe down Billie’s hardening cock. When Billie didn’t swat him away he took it into his mouth and grinned as the man groaned above him. Fingers threaded through his hair and he relaxed into the touch, swallowing as much as he could and relishing the noises being made in the wake. 

“Fuck Tre that feels good…” Billie moaned, resting his head back on the wall. 

This made him feel useful. This chased away the shred of guilt he felt earlier and this was hot as hell. He felt the hands on his ass disappear and the cream began to do its job, cooling and numbing the burning while leaving the slow throbbing in its wake. One hand replaced two and gentle tension was applied to Tre’s head pulling him off Billie to look up at Mike’s face instead. Mike had slipped off the bed to stand next to the two figures, lacing his fingers through Tre’s hair with one hand and the other through Billie’s. While Tre only had light pressure, Billie’s head had been pulled back harder exposing his throat and bringing out a groan from within it. He may have been staring at Mike, but he saw Billie’s reaction all too clearly. 

The switch happened so fast it seemed natural, but Billie went from dominant to submissive in a heartbeat. Tre watched as the switch happened, Billie’s features softening and closed eyes opening to reveal those same glittering eyes as before. There was a silent conversation going on that ended with a grin from Billie and a matching one from Mike. You didn’t know someone for as long as they had without being able to read a few cues. 

“Punishment is over, all’s forgiven.” Mike said to Tre while Billie all but purred at the hand twisted in his hair. “So you’re now allowed to fuck Billie for me.” 

Well, that was one way to perk Tre up and something that had been alluded to on the checklist even if his brain wasn't clear enough to remember it. “Thank you Mike,” Tre said and he meant it, raising up on his knees and being careful to not sit back on his heels. 

Mike smiled but it was closer to an expression he made on stage than the puppy dog grins he usually graced them with. He leaned forward, purposefully getting into Tre’s personal space and tightening his grip just a tiny bit. “Remember boy,” and Tre felt a little wave of something (lust, desire, fuck me…) come over him with the use of that word, “you're fucking him for me. He comes whenever he likes, but you don't until I let you. That’s if you beg nicely enough.”

Tre thought he may come right there, but he released a shaking breath and nodded quickly. “Yes sir.” The word sir slipped out and for a moment Tre expected Mike to correct him, instead was greeted with a flash of one of his usual smiles. 

“Go ahead and call me that for this one scene, that way I don't have two of you calling my name the whole time.”

Tre nodded, slipping into the right headspace was so much easier with a certain level of formality. 

“And boy?” That darker expression was back, making the blood rush from his ears and down to his groin. “If you come without permission, or so help me before Billie does, I will beat your ass again until you beg me to stop.”

Tre knew that wasn't a threat, that was a promise and he nodded sharply. 

“Colour?”

“Green.” 

“Good boy.”

When Mike spoke those words Billie’s gaze slowly turned to Tre and there was an amused but predatory glint to them. The effect was dulled without eyeliner to highlight it but it was one he did often enough to recognize. He was stealing his tricks! That was his creep out the camera look!

Mike used his grip to turn Billie around, the man alternating between moaning and crying out as hair twisted and pulled on the scalp. “Gonna fuck you Billie, just gonna use Tre to do it. You don't have to ask for permission, only he does.”

Billie nodded then glanced at Tre with the same glittery dark stare as he had used in the shower. No wonder he got the acting jobs, it was like he was switching between characters. Tre felt the grip in his hair relax and then a small, gentle shove pushed Tre toward Billie. 

He didn't need more than one invitation. 

He took a moment to run his tongue up Billie’s spine, relishing in the shiver it brought as the air cooled the saliva left behind. The other man whined. 

“I don’t think he needs foreplay, you can just fuck him.” 

Tre nodded and when he went to gently push a finger inside him, what greeted with just how ready he was. The man had already prepped himself for such an encounter. It surprised Tre, and fueled that desire in his gut. He let out the lowest of growls as he skipped right to the important part and lined himself up before pushed gently into the tight and warm lubed up hole. 

He started slow, the steady thrust eventually matching his rhythm to Billie's panting breath, his moans and little strings of profanity peppered with Mike’s name egging him on. It sent waves of something dark and wonderful curling through his stomach to be fucking someone and hearing them chant someone else's name. Mike would add in little commands, a ‘harder’ here or ‘slower’ there. He felt… was owned the right word? Used? His brain stowed it away for later and he fell into feeling rather than thinking. 

Billie was coming to a climax and clenched tight around his dick. Tre just caught himself before he started to come undone, gasping and panting as he slowed the rhythm to reach around the singer and pump his cock quickly. The rhythm was off and he was probably too rough but Billie came shouting Mike’s name. Tre glanced at Mike who tipped his head in a “go on” motion. Billie was collapsed forward, but straightened when Tre picked up where he left off. He let out a small cry then quickly followed it with a long low moan as the sensitivity began to take over. 

“Mike, please! It hurts! Please!”

“You can take it, be good for me.”

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” A litany of profanity came spewing out and he pushed to meet each of Tre’s thrusts.

The conversation between them did little to help Tre keep control of his orgasm. “Sir, can I come, please?”

“You can beg better than that, boy.”

The simple reply made Tre want to sob. Could he? He did not want to fail this. He refused to fail this. “Please, please let me come. I-fuck… I need to come, please!” Even as he continued thrusted he didn’t hear Mike give him permission. He glanced over, focused on not coming, not disobeying, and saw Mike just watching. He slowed his rhythm (for his sake and Billie’s) and considered his words. 

Mike clearly recognized the distress. “You can’t wait? Are you sure?” 

“No sir, please, I can’t wait, please, please, let me come!” Tre was panting and his palms were slipping on Billie’s hips. Billie was letting out little sobs of pleasure and over-sensitivity as Tre occasionally rubbed against the spongy spot inside him.

Mike’s response was so nonchalant that Tre almost didn’t hear him. “Ok, go ahead and come for me, then.” 

But he did hear it. He came with a muffled shout and an intensity that he was sure he saw things behind his eyes. Billie was close behind him, a second orgasm wracking him and coating his stomach as Tre spilled inside him and pulled him close. Tre teetered between sitting and kneeling, painfully aware of the condition of his ass, but also unable to maintain any sort of awkward balancing act. The drummer kissed Billie’s hair, wrapping his arms around him as both fought to catch their breath as he pulled out of him. 

“Shit.” Billie breathed out, looking down at his sticky stomach and grimacing. “That was nuts.” 

“Nut, just one. I think I’m blind,” Tre said flatly and Billie laughed. “I came too hard. It’s your fault you know,” Tre continued and Billie shot him a questioning look. “You have a nice ass, my brain couldn’t take it. Overstimulated.” 

Billie snorted before warm, wet wash cloths were tossed onto the two musicians. Both smiled at Mike’s approaching form before grabbing one to clean themselves up. The bassist pulled up the wooden chair, turning it backwards and sitting on it with a smile on his face. Tre tossed his wash cloth aside, pulling Billie with him as he grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed to stretch out, lying on his stomach next to Billie who did the same. 

“Both of you okay?” Mike asked, gentle and soft and Tre and Billie nodded in response. 

“That was great Mike, didn’t expect to come twice.” 

“I didn’t expect a lubed up hole waiting for me.” Tre said and wrapped an arm around Billie to cuddle next to him. 

Mike laughed at that and Billie just shrugged. “I had to do something while you were sitting on the naughty chair.” 

A comfortable silence fell over the three of them, something like talk radio very quietly and gently coming from an alarm clock radio on a bedside table. Mike joined them on the bed lying on his stomach on the other side of the tender assed Cool. Tre had pulled Billie as close as possible, into an almost spoon-like position with as much skin touching skin as was possible given their postures. The drummer hadn’t asked for anything in particular in terms of aftercare, but both men were comfortable giving him his space or taking it away as was necessary. 

“Billie?” Tre’s voice punctured the quiet after long minutes. 

“Yeah, Tre?” 

“Were you pretending to be St. Jimmy in the shower?” Tre asked as he glanced over. 

Billie actually blushed, avoiding eye contact with Mike who was now grinning broadly. “Figured it out, huh? Yeah, trying to anyways, was fun though wasn’t it?”

“Definitely. He can sing, can we keep him and get rid of you?” 

Mike laughed even as Tre kept a straight face at the question. Billie rolled his eyes in response and tapped the reddened skin on Tre’s ass, jolting the drummer up off the bed by about an inch. Tre shot him a look of irritation. 

“You’re going to have to drum standing up,” the singer said with a grin and Tre could only shrug as he closed his eyes. “It was worth it.”

Mike and Billie let out a breath they didn't realize they had been holding since Tre called yellow to temporarily end the scene. 

“I don't drop that hard,” Tre said with his eyes still closed, answering a question that was most likely on their minds even if they hadn’t asked it. He didn’t see the relief on the faces of the other two. “I just need people around, some skin, and maybe some food later. Maybe one of those donut pillows.”

“We can do that.”


End file.
